Heroes of the Storm: Not on the Cards
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Sometimes, Orphea wondered how the Realm Lords had ever accomplished anything without abducting warriors from outside the Nexus. After all, sending wave upon wave of minions into battle wasn't exactly sound strategy.


**Not on the Cards**

Sometimes, Orphea wondered how the Realm Lords had ever accomplished anything without abducting warriors from outside the Nexus.

Right now, going through the library of Raven Tower, this was one of those times. As her father had succumbed to his baser instincts, he'd let Raven Court fall into ruin, and even the interior of the tower itself. The books were dirty, dusty, and the only creatures that had read them recently were spiders. The books on history were no different, though having taken a pile to an equally filthy desk, Orphea could at least forgive her father for not bothering with these…to an extent. Because on one hand, the history of the Nexus could be boiled down to a history of war, with brief periods of peace, followed by a return to conflict. Conflict within realms, and in most cases, conflict between them. War was the way of the Nexus, and it was said that it would only end one the Storm itself ceased. She'd known this to be true before she could even walk. What she didn't know was why, in all the years of history that this place had, had no-one tried anything resembling strategy.

Frowning, she turned a page of _An Account of the Battles of the Nexus, Vol. 11_, finding it little different from volumes 1-10. Same locations. Same rulers. Same tactic of sending swordsmen crashing into each other, supported by arrows and magic, before bringing out siege engines close to the battle's end. Eleven volumes, and not once had she seen anything resembling strategy. The most charitable view she could muster was that the Realm Lords didn't want to change their strategies because doing so constituted a risk. It might give them victory, but failure would grant them defeat. Certainly her father had faced all manner of usurpers, and had sent them to oblivion. But having reached the end of volume 11, and sighing as she looked at volumes 12 to 15, Orphea suspected something else. The Realm Lords lacked imagination. They were invested in the status quo. And even after they'd started pulling warriors in from outside realms (calling them "heroes," as if that was meant to alleviate the repugnancy of their actions), the tactics remained the same. Sword, bow, and stone, sent in wave after wave. Giving volume 12 a withering glance, Orphea leant back in her chair and sighed, rubbing her eyes.

_Storm help me. _She opened one of those eyes and saw a spider scuttling across the desk. _Lucky bastard. All you need to worry about is catching flies and eating them from the inside. I get to worry about the future of the Raven Court._

She was tempted. Much as she was loathe to admit it, she was so, _so _tempted to turn her back on everything. She'd survived on her own for years, she could do it again. Because war was coming. Turned out that the sins of the father transferred to the daughter, which meant that Queen Raena wanted vengeance for the horrors Oberon had inflicted upon her realm. How her children felt about this, Orphea didn't know. And, she thought, finally turning to volume 12, she supposed it didn't matter either. Raena would summon her knights, her dragon, and her "heroes." Orphea would do the same. War would be fought. And for one of them, war would be lost. Which meant pouring through all these books and searching for something, anything that might give her an edge. Some grand insight into strategy.

"Orphea?"

Which Neeve wasn't going to give her. She ignored the voice and read about the day the Scarab Swarm assaulted Mistharbour, trying to find anything that would resemble viable tactics.

"Oh dear girl, are you still here?"

_Why yes Neeve, I am here. What, do you think I'm a hallucination?_

The old woman came shuffling out of the gloom. Dust was already collecting in her wrinkles, made visible by the candle at Orphea's desk.

"Come on my dear, you have a realm to rule, and a life to live. You'll do neither of those things with these old books."

Orphea closed volume 12 and gave her guardian a smile. "Why yes Neeve, I'll get straight on that. Why, I'll enjoy the golden rays of this realm's sun. I'll live and be merry, waiting for Raena's goons to come and cut my throat. That sounds like a perfect idea Neeve, why didn't I think of it before?!"

The words came out harsh, and they came out loud. Seeing the hurt in her guardian's eyes, Orphea regretted them immediately. But it was regret that lasted only a moment. Neeve could hate her for the rest of her life, but at least if she played her cards right, her guardian would be alive to do so.

"That bad then?" Neeve asked. She took a seat opposite her ward.

Orphea grunted, trying to hide her gratitude that Neeve hadn't left her. "My father had a big library, but his collection of books is lacking. Battle after battle, with no insight as to how I might win."

"Aren't all battles won and lost with the heroes these days?" Neeve asked.

"Heroes that are slow in coming," Orphea said. "You've seen the same signs I have Neeve. The Storm is slowing. Heroes and villains from other realms are coming slower. All eyes are now fixated on this so-called Deathwing, but there's no guarantee he'll arrive before Raena invades. And even if he does, whose side would he take, if any?"

Neeve put a finger to her chin. "Deathwing. Destroyer. He doesn't sound like a pleasant fellow, does he?"

"Oh no. Those names conjure up images of puppies, rainbows, and wonder billies," Orphea sneered. "Please Neeve, do go on. I…" She trailed off, before putting her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired, and if I don't do this right, then my realm, my people…" She sighed, thinking of her father. What he would do. Probably summon eldritch abominations from the Dark Nexus again. Those monsters had given him a victory over the Grave Keeper, but now they were running amok, terrorizing a populace already drowning in blood.

_I wish you were here, father, _Orphea thought to herself. _I wish you were here, so I could tell you just how badly you screwed up before I put a knife through your rotting heart._

It had given her no small amount of sleepless nights to know that her father was still out there. Even more sleepless nights once word had reached her ears of a chainblade-wielding assassin who was selling her services to the highest bidder. And indeed, because of those sleepless nights, she might have fallen asleep then and there, if Neeve didn't pull something out of her robes.

"Neeve, what's this?"

"A game," her guardian said. "One I think we should play."

"Don't be ridiculous Neeve, I don't have time for games."

"Relax my dear, it will be over soon. And you need the time to relax. To unwind."

"Neeve, I don't-"

"You need it," her guardian said firmly.

Orphea decided not to resist. She was too exhausted to do anything else, and as powerful as her magic was, she needed concentration and willpower to use it effectively. But that said, seeing that Neeve was pulling out a board and two decks of cards, well…

"Hearthstone?" Orphea asked. "Seriously?"

"Hearthstone Battlegrounds," Neeve said. "New edition. It fell into the Nexus ahead of this Deathwing creature everyone's talking about."

Orphea wasn't sure if 'everyone' was talking about that damn dragon, but she didn't contest the point. "Fine. What's different?"

Neeve moved her wrinkled hand over the board, and little figures popped into existence. Ones that resembled the wretches caught in their endless battles in Alterac.

"This is what's called an auto-battler," Neeve said.

Orphea didn't like the sound of that.

"We play our cards. And these soldiers rush at each other. Fight with minimal direction. Victory is achieved by-"

"No."

Neeve stopped talking and looked at Orphea. "My dear?"

"No," Orphea repeated. "I'm not playing it."

"Orphea, if you just give it a try."

"Neeve, what part of 'no' do you not understand? Are you questioning my orders?"

Neeve looked afraid. "I was just-"

"Neeve, let me explain something to you. This?" She tapped volume 12. "This is a history of the Nexus. It's a history of sending men to fight and die without rhyme or reason. Right now, I'm trying to find a way of doing things differently, because the future of my realm is at stake. And now, not only do you want me to play a game, but you want me to play one that's even more bereft of tactics than these battlegrounds?"

Neeve said nothing. Maybe she didn't have an answer.

"Go, Neeve," Orphea said. She opened volume 12 and began to read. "I don't have time for games. War is coming, the Storm is dying, and I'm sure the people here who play Hearthstone have nothing to worry about."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neeve begin to pack the board up. Once again, she felt a pang of regret. One sharp and deep enough to pierce the top of her heart. A sensation of what her father would feel once she found him, she told herself. But for now, a sensation that only she was feeling. And not a pleasant one at that.

"I'll begin dinner," Neeve whispered. "I'll call you when it's ready."

"Dinner?" Orphea asked.

Neeve laughed bitterly. "You arrived this morning. The moon is already in the sky now."

"Hmm." Orphea turned a page. "How fitting. Night's coming for us all, and we get to die in darkness."

"Orphea, you…" Neeve trailed off, before bowing. "If there's anything you need."

There was a lot she needed, Orphea reflected. Ideas. Strategies. Heroes. This Deathwing. Even Neeve's company at the end of the day, or so begged her bleeding heart. But she asked for none of it. She was the realm lady of Raven Court, and realm lords didn't ask. They took. Be it realms, gold, or in some cases, lives. All while the Storm continued to rage.

_Like a game, _Orphea reflected. _A never-ending game._

She turned the page.

* * *

_A/N_

_So Blizzard's getting in on the auto-battler craze. Not a surprise there. What _did _surprise me however was that they were doing it through _Hearthstone _rather than _Heroes of the Storm _or making it its own thing ala _Teamfight Tactics _or _Dota Underlords_. That said, when you consider that _Hearthstone _is much more popular than HotS at the moment, it kind of makes sense._

_Anyway, drabbled this up._

The game moved on.


End file.
